


Halls and Hells

by SamJoinedtheReconCorps



Series: A Flame in the Shadows [16]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Essek's really out here worried out of his mind, M/M, Near Death Experience, Post Ep 87, Roll for Initiative, Stress, spoilers for ep 97, time skip-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23197222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamJoinedtheReconCorps/pseuds/SamJoinedtheReconCorps
Summary: The Mighty Nein drop off the radar for almost a month - Essek worries, and he has no idea how bad their situation truly is.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Series: A Flame in the Shadows [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648909
Comments: 44
Kudos: 169





	Halls and Hells

**Author's Note:**

> heeeey guys!!! so i finished my 15 page Fitzgerald paper that was my english final!! And, I also made the drive home from college in the dead of night right before dawn, and let me tell you, nothing is more terrifying than driving in the pouring rain at 4 in the morning and having earth, wind, and fire’s “do you remember” come up on shuffle, like total mood changer man
> 
> But I made it home and i'm now gonna practice social distancing as much as possible, which has been made easier since classes will now be virtual starting next quarter to help slow down the spread of the virus, and I’m gonna do my part even though it's super tiny to try and give everyone who reads this a little respite, a little distraction amidst all of this, especially with Critical Role going dark for a while as they do their part to slow the spread too
> 
> We’re gonna get through this y’all. I love you guys, and please, please take care of yourself and of those who are our most vulnerable. I’ve suffered from delicate health my whole life, and while these are pretty scary times, nothing is worse in my opinion than apathy when following instructions given by health care professionals, so please please heed their instructions to the best of your ability, and don't forget to love each other during these trying times
> 
> Alright, serious note over, but idk I wanted to just kinda say a few words
> 
> Also, explorer’s guide to wildemount spoilers: MATTHEW MERCER WHAT THE FUCK WAS UP WITH ESSEK’S ALIGNMENT
> 
> i've been working on this fic since sunday in between writing my paper, and i had to skim through a good amount of episodes to write it, so I really, really hope you guys like it!!

When the Mighty Nein went seeking Yussa’s help in Tidepeak, they didn’t expect to find that the mage was missing, as his assistant Wensforth nervously told them it’d been three weeks since he’d last heard from his master.

They also didn’t expect another mage, Arcanist Allura Vysoren of Tal’Dorei, to get called in to help as well - and they certainly weren’t thinking about what they were getting into when they decided to go into the Happy Fun Ball themselves to retrieve Yussa.

Whatever the case, that’s what leads Caleb to tinker with the Heirloom Sphere again, finding the false band at its center and splitting it open, pressing the small button just beneath the seam. The ball clicks and whirs, expanding out of its spherical shape and turning more ovoid in nature.

Carefully inspecting the ball, Caleb finds a bit of exposed green crystal, taking it between his fingers and starting to turn it like a wind up toy.

_ Click-click-click-click-click - _

The ball suddenly shifts and turns, reconfiguring in his hands as a bright blue light begins to pour out of it, filling the chamber with a flash before they all disappear.

* * *

Beau’s shouts about the frog creature’s resistance to fire comes a little too late as Caleb pulls out his cat’s cradle covered in phosphorus. “Oh, tough titty,” he mumbles to himself, slamming his hands to the ground and setting a ring of flame to spark around him before the fire streaks out in five different directions, rushing towards their enemies - the first time he’s had a chance to use his newly created spell,  _ Web of Fire _ .

The steaks of fire snake out like a living gunpowder fuse, igniting into a column of flame as soon as they reach their targets. The two nearest frogmen to Caleb go down, as well as another off in the distance - the one beside Fjord and the giant frog creature still stand.

Caleb doesn’t have much time to think before the scribe mites descend upon him, sending lightning into his veins as they consume his magic - but they can’t stop fighting, not when they need to get through the Folding Halls of Halas to save Yussa and now to also save themselves.

* * *

Essek stared down at the various tomes he’d gathered for his research, old books and texts he went and collected from the Marble Tomes Conservatory himself. They were written in Undercommon, but with that ancient flair that added to the gravity of its subject. He delicately turned a weathered page, looking down at the charcoal illustration of a dagger wielding drow, all sharp edges and harsh lines.

_ Jourrael - The Inevitable End _ .

Suppressing a shiver, Essek looked away from the picture, quickly skimming along the accompanying text. Just like everything else he’d read, all it said was death made flesh, a nightmare shroud that disappeared as quickly as it appeared, leaving a trail of corpses in its wake. The Caedogeist - all smoke and mirrors until it had a knife between your ribs.

He ran a hand down his face, making sure to set a marker inside the book so he could quickly find the page again before he turned to another text. He was glad that he could spare a few minutes out of his day for research - after their success in Hupperdook in the weapons factories attacks and their defeat in holding the Ashguard Garrison, Essek had his hands full collecting intel from all their agents across the border. It was a war on two fronts.

_ On three _ , he reminded himself. He shook his head. After all of this, that would be over, he assured himself. Once the Angel of Irons was out of the way, Essek was going to try and untangle himself from the web he had in part created - with the only hope that he could keep the threads far away from the Mighty Nein, to keep them safe and away from all the consequences that Essek knew were lurking right around the corner.

* * *

“Th-this entity, um, is doing very poorly,” Allura tells them as soon as Jester contacts her again through the mirror.

Caleb pauses in his repairs of Little Willi, listening carefully to the conversation.

“Extremely poorly,” she continues as Jester gasps in excitement. “Um, when I was checking in, he was in the midst of being berated by an individual.”

“Obann,” Jester says, her eyes narrowing.

“Possibly,” Allura adds. “Um, the flesh was sagging, and it was extremely lethargic, breathing heavy.”

“Whoa,” Jester grins, turning to Beau who claps her hands in front of her face, as if barely daring herself to believe Allura’s words.

“Um, yeah, so whatever you did seems to had quite an impact on this creature,” Allura continues.

“That’s amazing,” Jester gets out.

Setting down the tools he was working with, Caleb finally turns, catching sight of Allura as she gives a heavy sigh. “Um, there was talk a bit of an event soon - as part of this frustration, shouting at this - this beast, this Laughing Hand, about how it falls apart near the finish line.”

The finish line - ominous and foreboding, worrisome by nature as it looms over them. But now - now they had a chance. The Hand was weakened, which meant that they might be able to do this.

He could still feel the Permaheart’s phantom heartbeats reverberate in his chest, beating out of sync with his own heart. They had finally gotten a win, and Caleb knew that now more than ever they might be able to gain another victory - and get that much closer to getting Yasha back.

* * *

It’d been over a week and a half since the Mighty Nein had gone off on the hunt for the Angel of Irons cult to try and cut them down once and for all. Essek had expected - had hoped - that maybe he would have received a message from them by now. He had found a scrap of information that he hoped would help them in their fight against the Inevitable End, and the sooner he got those details to them, the better. But they still hadn’t contacted him. 

Well - he pulled out his own copper wire, sitting back in his desk chair. He could just  _ send them _ a message instead.

Going through the motions, Essek concentrated on Caleb, thinking about his bright eyes and the smattering of freckles across his nose and his steady hands. He conjured him in his mind, then he began to talk. “ _ I have found information regarding the Inevitable End, _ ” he started, feeling as his message found no purchase. “ _ Fighting them with _ …” he trailed off, a cold pit of dread solidifying in his stomach as he realized his message hadn’t found it's recipient.

Without hesitation, Essek quickly pulled out his  _ scrying  _ mirror, setting it down on his desk. He took a deep breath, already feeling that familiar panic that had gripped him weeks ago starting to rise up his throat. He swallowed it down, focusing on the task at hand.

The runes that surrounded the silver mirror began to glow before they went out - just as Essek had feared.

Before he descended down that panicked path again, he quickly set his mind to Veth, focusing on her. She was Caleb’s best friend, if he could find her, he could find Caleb.

Going through the motions and saying the incantation under his breath, he saw the glyphs glow before they were also extinguished. Essek swallowed hard, his heartbeat starting to pound against his ribs.

Jester - seeing Jester would give him plenty of information about how the group was doing.

Muttered words, glowing glyphs, and - nothing.

Essek pictured Beauregard’s easy stance, arms crossed as if she could care less what happened, focusing on that and - not a glimpse, not even the hint of a suggestion that she had shrugged the  _ scry  _ off.

He was about to perform the spell again, Fjord in mind this time, when he paused. Essek had enough strength left for two  _ teleport _ spells. He wasn’t sure if he might need them later in the day, if they reached out to him.

If they reached out to him, he repeated, feeling that prickly hot anxiety crawl up his back. They had gone completely dark, as if they’d - they’d -

No, he ground out, cutting himself off. They were  _ fine _ . The Assembly hadn’t gotten to them, hadn’t gotten to Caleb. They were absolutely fine - probably just in another plane, that’s all. Essek knew that spells got trickier or failed completely if trying to pierce the veil between planes.

And that realization brought a whole new slew of worries as it hit him like a  _ thunderwave _ that the plane they might be on was the Abyss. The fucking Abyss, hunting down the Angel of Irons.

Without missing a beat, he  _ sent _ off two other messages, trying to reach Caleb and Jester, and feeling both of them fail. His hands shook as he clasped them tightly, saying a quiet prayer to the Luxon, to the god he didn’t believe in but that he so desperately hoped watched over them now. He couldn’t bear to think of the alternative, even if it meant entertaining the idea that they might be in the Abyss right now.

They would be back, he assured himself, blinking back tears. They had to come back.

* * *

The next morning, Essek tried  _ scrying _ on Caleb again - followed by Fjord and Caduceus, only for all three to come up empty, and for his three messages to reach no one as well. The panic was back, rising up his throat like bile, when he suddenly remembered their friend - the one taken by Obann.

He focused on her, recalling every single detail he could in the brief time he’d known her. He poured over his mirror, watching the runes begin to glow when suddenly - an image flickered on its surface.

Essek felt himself simultaneously breathe out a sigh while also holding a nervous breath, absolutely terrified of what he would find. Maybe - maybe they had gotten to the Mighty Nein, and Essek would see why he couldn’t find them. Maybe Essek would -

Blurred shapes began to appear, with the woman - Yasha, he suddenly remembered - trailing after a man through thick brush. The man kept stealing furtive glances behind them, looking more and more annoyed. Finally he stopped, turning around and gesturing back.

“Orphanmaker, that - we need a better path for the Hand. He’s slowing us down,” he said.

Yasha nodded, turning around with her greatsword and carving away the roots and brambles that tugged at their legs.

As she worked, Essek caught sight of the hulking mass of the Laughing Hand, with it's dual edged blade swinging to clear out a path as well. His movements were sluggish and sloppy, nothing at all how Essek had imagined the beast would look.

Focusing as much as the  _ scry _ would allow while still keeping Yasha in the center, Essek realized that the Laughing Hand didn’t look at all the way Fjord had shown it looked weeks ago - it's skin looked like molten candle wax, ready to slough off as he moved. The smiling mouths and jagged teeth looked even more grotesque and contorted, the laughing sounding slower and more warped.

“By the light,” Essek breathed, watching as the rest of the  _ scry _ played out. “They did it.” Essek had no idea how he knew, but he  _ knew _ in his very bones that the Mighty Nein had done it - they had weakened the Laughing Hand.

Wherever they were, and whatever they were doing, they were fighting with everything they had. It heartened Essek, sending a wave of relief crashing over him as the  _ scry _ shuttered out. Essek held onto that, hoping that meant they were okay - hoping that maybe if he couldn’t see or talk to them, that maybe others, maybe the Angel of Irons, maybe the Assembly, couldn’t find them either.

* * *

It felt like an eternity passed within the Circlebound Chamber - but Caleb knows it can’t have been more than a couple of seconds as he collapses with Nott in his arms, Jester falling to her knees in front of them, and pressing a diamond to Nott’s chest, murmuring a quiet prayer that catches on a sob as she tightly grips her symbol of the Traveler.

Jester’s gets out a quiet, “No, no, no, no, no,” as the diamond turns black and crumples to dust before it settles more firmly on Nott’s chest - and suddenly Nott breathes in a gasp, the sound music to Caleb’s ears as he feels her move once more.

“Check for traps,” Beau lightly scolds, voice thick.

“That’s what you were saying,” Nott weakly answers, and Caleb feels his chest constrict, fighting back tears, and he just holds her tighter.

* * *

A guttural roar thunders through the Tidepeak, breaking the windows and snuffing out the candles, ripping them apart from each other as the ritual connection is broken.

Allura takes a heaving breath, looking around at all of them. “This thing you chase is a ruse.” She looks to Yussa, unable to continue.

“There is no Angel of Irons,” Yussa gets out, staring at the center of the room where the visage of the writhing black shadow surrounded by chains had been mere seconds before. “It is a guise for the Chained Oblivion.” He looks up at them. “For Tharizdun.”

And although light filters in through the broken windows and the chains from the ritual have disappeared, Caleb feels his breath catch in his throat.

The Chained Oblivion, mad god of hunger and death - that’s what they were up against.

* * *

But there was still the matter of Halas.

“Unless I am mistaken, that spirit can only return to that body, correct?” Yussa asked, referring to Halas’ spirit trapped in the ruby and Halas’ unconscious body.

“I think so,” Jester answered at the same time Nott said, “That’s what he said.”

“Yes, that’s our understanding,” Fjord nodded.

Yussa watches the body curiously before opening his hand, and suddenly Halas’ body begins to blacken and crackle, burning from the inside out, falling to cinder and ash and filling the chamber with the smell of burnt flesh.

Caleb is instantly brought to a dark memory, one that attempts to hook into his mind but which he manages to shake off as Yussa finishes - and suddenly a new memory returns, this one of the Dungeon of Penance, of the the broken body of the Scourger after she’d attacked him.

“I can get behind that,” Caduceus comments, and it jars Caleb, helping him shake the memory off again, watching as Yussa turns to them.

“Well, look at that, now there is no longer worry of him returning to his form,” Yussa says, casual as ever.

“That was, ah,” Caleb starts.

“Effective?” Yussa suggests.

“Decisive,” Caleb finishes, still staring at the soot where Halas’ body once was. Yussa was not Essek - Essek wasn’t Yussa. These situations were miles away from each other - and yet Caleb can’t help but think of Essek, off in Rosohna, taking care of their problems with a wave of his hand much like Yussa did right now.

But Yussa had needed to be saved - he needed the Mighty Nein’s help. Caleb tried not to think about what might ever lead Essek to need that kind of help too - of what circumstances would lead Essek to need to be saved, by the Mighty Nein, by  _ Caleb _ , of all people.

* * *

“I can’t really imagine what life would be like if we weren’t trying to unravel this incredible mystery,” Fjord admits amongst their talk of destiny and the gods of old, all over a meal of fish and chips. “I’m sure calm will come again one day, but until then,” Fjord gives Caleb and Caduceus a smile. “Listening to my friends - we’ve been given incredible opportunity to affect change, maybe change the course of some things. I don’t know if we’ll do it, I don’t even know how to start.”

“We start by helping a friend,” Caduceus says.

“A very large part of me still feels that this is all stupid,” Caleb gets out, staring down at the wood of the tavern table. “That I should run away and stick my head in the sand.” He looks up at them. “This is not for us - for me. This is our death.”

“Well, you are the smart one,” Caduceus smiles, watching Caleb carefully.

“You’re also not wrong,” Fjord agrees.

“But,” Caleb adds, looking down again, thinking about Nott and how much she cares about him, and Beau with her brusque affection - Jester with her tricks and laughter, Fjord with his grounding strength, Caduceus with his sage words, Mollymauk and his ostentatiously endearing charm, Essek with his patient lessons, and Yasha with her calm reassurance. “I have started to forget what it was like to not be with you people.” He swallows hard, past the lump in his throat. He thinks of Yasha, the way the mild amusement that’s always in her two toned eyes was snuffed out by the monster that had her in its grasp. “And we are missing one, and I am stuck on that - that we are missing one.”

There’s a beat of silence as Caleb’s admission sinks in.

“It's good to know your goal,” Caduceus speaks up. “To  _ really _ know it. It’ll help you.”

“I think the other part of it is, if you know everything that we know, and you have a choice, do you choose not to act, and sit by idly, letting the rest of your life go by?” Fjord asks. “Or do you act knowing full well that you might fail entirely?”

Caleb looked down at his hands. “Well, I’m at least familiar with the concept of failure.”

Fjord nods once beside him, brow furrowed in thought. “I think I’m becoming comfortable with the idea of failing  _ with _ you,” he said. “Makes it a little less lonely.”

And, yes - it did, didn’t it? Heading into the belly of the beast had never been a path Caleb would have taken, but heading into it with friends, to rescue and save one of their own? Caleb wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

Essek stared down at the report that was placed on his desk, the PRIORITY seal bringing it to the forefront of all of the things he had planned that day - bringing it forward past the message from the Tal’Dorei Council, requesting an audience with a Bright Queen for one of it's representatives, bringing it forward past his research on the Angel of Irons and its cult.

He opened up the missive, reading through it quickly.

An attack on Rexxentrum - that’s what it was about. An attack taking place within two days, with the letter reminding him to be ready to receive any and all intel their agents and soldiers may gather while they sow havoc within the Empire’s capital.

Looking out of the window of his Lucid Bastion study, he could almost pretend he could see the soft glow of the Xhorhaus’ tree. He could almost pretend that everyone was at the house, waiting for Essek to have a free moment so that he could help them get to their next destination. He could almost pretend that they were safe, away from the coming conflict - conflict he hoped they would remain far, far away from.

* * *

Caduceus gave a pained groan, lurching forward as everyone turned to see what was wrong - catching sight of the blood dribbling out of the corner of Caduceus’ mouth as a woman pulled a dagger from his back, dripping in blood and black, brackish poison, a grin spreading across her drow features before she disappeared into the ground.

_ The Inevitable End _ .

Caleb felt himself grow cold all over - first finding out about the Chained Oblivion, and now this - her,  _ here _ ? The brief solace they found in weakening the Laughing Hand had evaporated, and now the Inevitable End was proving to be a deadly ghost story, lashing out against them with murderous ease and then disappearing into the shadows virtually untouched - another deadly servant of Tharizdun, another monster keeping them away from reuniting their family.

* * *

Shaken from the battle with the Inevitable End and having barely scraped together enough sleep at the Evening Nip, Caleb now sat in Pumat’s shop, away from the group. Before heading over they had stopped by the Pillow Trove and Caleb,  _ disguised _ as Jester, had gone inside to collect the letter from the Soltryce Academy - from Astrid.

Despite everything they’d been through within the last 24 hours, Caleb couldn’t help but feel like this might be what would do him in. He was anxious, terrified of what the letter might hold.

After checking it for traps and magic and snapping Frumpkin in to keep watch on the group so they wouldn’t try to read over his shoulder, Caleb was no longer able to put it off and so he finally opened the letter.

_ To the attention of Mrs. Lavorre, Nott and Brave: _

_ I have received this letter on behalf of my elder mentors of the Soltryce Academy. This is a curious bit of fortune, it would seem. I have not spoken with my uncle for quite some time, and while I am sad to hear of his passing, I am also quite interested to hear about this inheritance and the circumstances surrounding his death. _

_ I can be reached at the 31st Woadstone Manor on the northeastern end of the Shimmer Ward of Rexxentrum in the Empire. I travel often, so should I not be present, present this letter to any present servants and stay within the visitor quarters as our guest. I will return within a day. _

_ Astrid. _

Caleb felt himself heave a shaky breath as he read her name. He recognized her handwriting, could picture the way her hand curved along the parchment as she wrote. It brought unexpected tears to his eyes that he quickly swallowed down as he reread the letter once more, this time truly taking it in.

_ I can be reached at the 31st Woadstone Manor on the northeastern end of the Shimmer Ward of Rexxentrum in the Empire _ .

Woadstone Manor - on the property of Trent Ikithon’s tower.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

Yet another complication to add to Caleb’s ever growing list - but he doesn’t even have a chance to think about it as they all get ready to  _ scry  _ on Yasha.

Pumat concentrates on a large crystal sphere, using it as the focus for his spell. He blinks, and suddenly his eyes are clouded over. They wait in tense silence before he begins talking again.

“Alright, she’s, ah, she’s walkin’,” he tells them. “She’s walking, she’s got some companions around. They’re all kind of cloaked right now.” He squints at something they can’t see. “It’s a bit a - bit a’ rainfall. Where are they? Little bit of mist out, there’s, ah, there - that’s a big ci-” He cuts himself off, recognition flashing across his face. “Oh, they’re walking up to Rexxentrum.”

Caleb feels bile rise up the back of his throat. Complications, complications, all around - and no time at all to think about them.

* * *

They rush through the streets of Rexxentrum, towards the Chantry of the Dawn, running past the soldiers that aim to meet the Kryn incursion head on - a diversion, all a diversion. They run towards the sunlight shining down on the Chantry, shining down despite the storm that rages overhead.

As they rush through, a few crownsguard try to stop them - only to be thrown back and attacked by a giant purple worm that bursts out of the ground, revealing three Kryn soldiers, it's riders, who then attack the crownsguard before turning on the Mighty Nein, giving chase.

Fjord whirls around, pulling out his symbol of the Bright Queen and whispering loudly, “Stop - leave us be, we have business at the Bright Queen.” He jerks his head at them, gesturing them to go elsewhere. “Back at your post.”

There’s a tense moment as the Kryn soldiers slow to a stop before them, warily taking in the symbol Fjord holds up.

Not flinching at their scrutiny, Fjord merely slips the symbol back under his armor. “Hurry,” he instructs them.

One of the Kryn soldiers shouts something in Undercommon, giving the group one last look before they - along with the other two soldiers - climb back onto the purple worm before the beast burrows into the ground once more.

It allows them a sigh of relief that lasts but a heartbeat as they turn back around, heading towards the Chantry, towards the beacon of sunlight that beckons them into the maw of the mad god of old.

* * *

The Bright Queen’s chambers are tense as multiple  _ scrys _ happen at once, with various Dynasty mages carefully watching in on the incursion from multiple vantage points, some focusing on generals and others on soldiers, and all of them reporting what they see.

A soldier from the antechamber steps in briefly, to inform them that the Tal’Dorei dignitary has arrived - something that causes the Queen’s face to cloud over.

“Have them wait,” she announces.

Essek can see she’s displeased by their sudden arrival, but from the report he’d briefly looked over, what the Tal’Dorei Council had to say seemed of urgent importance. He wasn’t going to speak up yet though - not on behalf of some stranger.

A handful of minutes pass, not yet even an hour before another page runs in, this time out of breath, not even bothering to apologize as they stand at the door. “My Queen, the Mighty Nein have been spotted in the Rexxentrum attack - they claimed to be there on your behalf when they ran into our soldiers.”

“On my behalf -” The Bright Queen starts, her eyes narrowing, when suddenly a woman - a human woman, with blonde, silver-streaked hair braided down her shoulders clad in a blue dress rushes in, leaving Essek with no time to even begin to wrap his head around the news of the Mighty Nein in Rexxentrum.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” she starts, immediately dropping to a bow. “But I must implore you to halt this attack I have just heard of on Rexxentrum.”

The Bright Queen’s cold visage turns absolutely icy. “And who are you to come into  _ my _ court and implore such a thing?” Her eyes flash at the page who shrinks back, clearly realizing his mistake.

Swallowing, the woman continues, still in her bow. “I am Arcanist Allura Vysoren, of the Tal’Dorei Council - I am a friend of the Mighty Nein, and I come to warn you that this, this attack that you have coordinated -” She falters, finally looking up, “It is being used as a distraction by the Angel of Irons cult to bring about an ancient portent of doom upon our world - to bring back Tharizdun.”

It is as if the ice in the Bright Queen’s eyes has materialized all around them as the temperature drops as soon as the Chained Oblivion’s name is said aloud. The Bright Queen pauses, and Essek can recognize that look - she’s reeling from the revelation.

“And how do you know this?” the Queen asks carefully.

“The Mighty Nein and I divined it through a ritual - piercing the Angel’s visage and unmasking it's true form,” Arcanist Allura shudders at the memory. “It revealed itself as an inky mass of black shadow, writhing and hungry and plotting for it's tethers to be broken so it can be unleashed once more.” She clasps her hands in front of her. “For this reason, I implore you, the attack must be called back in order to focus the Empire’s forces on the evil that threatens to wipe us all out.”

Before the Queen has a chance to respond, Essek stands, turning to her and dropping into a low bow himself. “M-my queen, I must join this dignitary’s plea - the threat the Angel of Irons posed was ever increasing with each new member that rallied under its banner, but now, knowing what it truly is -” He bowed as much as he could without dropping prostrate before her. “Please, my queen - I beg of you, for the good of our people and of Exandria.” For the good of the Mighty Nein, most of all. “Please, call off the attack.”

* * *

Riding in on  _ Cat’s Ire _ through the shattered cathedral windows, Caleb only has seconds to get a lay of the land before he claps his hands together with bat guano and sulfur, sending a  _ fireball _ into the center of cultists he sees near the altar.

Multiple bodies collapse in flames, and Caleb feels that old horror tug at the back of his mind before he shakes it off. He can’t dwell on that. Not now, as all hell breaks loose.

Obann and the Laughing Hand and the Inevitable End and - and Yasha eventually join the fray, and it's bloodshed and vicious attacks, and at some point Caleb watches as Obann takes over Nott’s mind, commanding her down into the tunnels beneath the chantry, and Caleb is powerless to stop it as more attacks rain down on them.

And Caleb as powerless as he watches their friend, as he watches Yasha cut down Beauregard, then stab her through the chest as she bleeds out on the ground. He is suddenly wracked with the image of Mollymauk on the dirty, lonely road, spitting up blood before the glaive in his chest twisted and tore the life from his body.

Everything that happens after that is almost too fast for Caleb to process - Caduceus snaps Yasha out of Obann’s control, bringing her back to herself, and he stabilizes Beau, all in one flurry of magic, before Jester’s duplicate rushes forward and heals Beau enough to get her back on her feet.

Rain soaked and numb, the shock still settling in his bones at the uncanny resemblance of the attack on Beau, Caleb stumbles forward, pulling out his cat’s cradle coated in phosphorus before slamming his hands on the ground, casting  _ Web of Fire _ with it concentrating on the Laughing Hand.

He feels tears sting his eyes as he focuses the blast, fire ringing out around him before five motes of fire shoot out and converge into a five foot wall, a tsunami of fire that climbs up the stairs before devouring the Laughing Hand, the fire burning hot and consuming it's entire form. The laughter gets louder and louder, reaching a crescendo before it thins out and then there’s silence - the flames dying out, leaving the blackened husk of the Laughing Hand, dead on its feet.

“Get the fuck away from my friends,” Caleb whispers, hoarse from the battle as much as he is from fighting back his tears.

* * *

Descending deep below the Chantry, they finally catch a glimpse of Nott, standing within one of four runic circles. She stares unseeing at an obelisk, the  _ charm _ making her docile where she stands.

Caleb quietly gets out an incantation, moving his hands in the accompanying pattern, and he feels the dual heartbeat in his chest, the  _ Fortune’s Favor _ taking effect to help guide the outcome - a reminder of Essek even in the dark, ancient bowels of the earth. Caleb finishes his  _ dispel magic _ charm, and Nott blinks.

“What?” she asks in a daze. “What - hello? Hello?”

As quickly and as quietly as he can, Caleb pulls out the wire, sending a  _ message  _ to Nott. “ _ We are in a hallway - all of us are here. Do not reply to this message _ ,” he instructs.

Nott blinks twice, then plaster a dreamy look on her face as she keeps her eyes on the obelisk. “Ooooh, praise be.”

“ _ If they are in there, with you, and you know it, cough one time _ ,” Caleb  _ messages _ again.

He can see as the  _ message _ reaches her, and he suddenly has his answer as she breaks out into a coughing fit.

It was now or never, it seemed.

After a few spells from their clerics, they decided to just head in - right into the battle.

The Inevitable End strikes first, attacking Beau but leaving her open to a counter strike, and then the fighting kicks up again.

They barely have time to breathe as Obann and the Inevitable End give them the fight of their lives, with Obann taking control over Fjord before Caduceus manages to break him out of it. The Inevitable End disappears again as the fight continues, up until Caleb finds her, dagger deep in his ribs.

He feels another burning slash bury itself in his side, and feels the pulse of poison as it pounds into his veins before she shifts past him. He can feel blood pouring out of him, feels the poison thrum through him, but he grits his teeth and sends a  _ fire bolt _ , watching as the fire collides with her - but she pays it no mind.

Caleb heaves a shaky breath, catching sight of his friends as they bear down on Obann - Fjord with the  _ Star Razor _ , Caduceus with a painful spell, and Yasha.

Yasha, who comes out from behind Obann, grabbing a hold of his leathery wings, her fingers crackling with electricity that snakes up and down her arms and she pulls, her muscles bulging as she snarls, her eyes a startling blue like a lightning strike, as she plants her foot at the center of Obann’s back and tears his wings off.

Obann falls to his knees, black ichor pouring out of his mouth between his pained breaths before Yasha takes the  _ Skin Gourger _ , stabbing it right through Obann, the greatsword’s blade coming out through Obann’s chest.

As Yasha pulls out the sword, Obann collapses. “Angel of Irons,” he breathes out, the death rattle clear in his words. “Why have you abandoned me? I did everything you asked.”

The already dark room grows darker, the shadows lengthening hungrily along the walls and floor. The obelisk flickers, and a tremor shakes the room as a voice pours in all around them, ancient and guttural and in a language unrecognizable - cold and cruel, a voice that threatens to consume with each jagged word.

“No - no,” Obann cried out, weakly trying to pull himself up as the blood pouring out of his chest blackens, coming out in a torrent.

Yasha leans over him, looking him in the eye. “Did you hear that?” she asks.

Obann turns terrified eyes to her before his skin sloughs off his horned skull, the bone following soon after as Obann’s body melts, falling into the brackish black blood, as inky tendrils of shadow incarnate spill across the floor.

They all step back, watching as the black sludge bubbles and boils on the ground - then the boiling ink turns into a tentacle, then another, and another, as a mass of eyes and teeth and writhing tendrils rises up - Obann’s new, corrupted form.

Not a breath of respite before it attacks, sending an inky whip out towards Fjord who manages to duck out of the way as he runs off, following Nott who has dashed for cover after shooting the creature with a crossbow bolt.

The mass of boiling ink writhes before it lashes out, the shadows wrapping and biting at them, and Caleb, with the poison already thrumming through his veins, feels his vision dim, swallowed by the darkness that attacks him. He falls to his knees, thinking of his friends, hoping that they would make it out alive. He briefly thinks of Essek, wondering if he’ll ever know how Caleb died, if he might mourn him, might miss him, before everything goes dark.

* * *

There’s a brief glimpse of his childhood home, of his mother’s smiling face before Caleb gasps for breath, blinking up at Caduceus as he feels the cleric begin to drag him away from the writhing tentacles of Obann.

More attacks and spells are dealt against the creature - then the center of its body splits, revealing a set of jagged teeth and it bears down on Caleb, swallowing him whole.

It's dark and burning hot inside, and it feels like thousands of teeth are carving away at him, but Caleb uses his last breath to get out the somatic elements as he clutches tightly to his caterpillar cocoon, twirling his hands in the limited space he has before he feels his form shift, enlarging and growing more muscular before he tears out of the shadows with a giant roar, hitting his now giant ape chest in fury. This needed to end,  _ now _ .

Then the creature swallows Caduceus and takes out both Beau  _ and  _ Jester, and as things grow increasingly dire and the creature moves, heading towards Beau to finish her off - the Cadeogeist bursts out from beneath it, tearing it asunder with her dual daggers and sending Caduceus toppling out of the creature. Caduceus sends out a massive healing spell, taking care of their worst wounded, and just like that, it’s over.

They gather themselves up as best as possible, Caleb even teasing Beau with his giant ape strength before he drops his form. It’s over, they all survived - and their family was whole, once again, as it should be.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand there you have it folks!!! All those episodes shrunk down into what I felt were some pretty impactful scenes that would work with this fic - i really hope it worked out well T.T
> 
> I also had a terrifying thought while writing and I mean Essek better not fucking be a part of the angel of irons that makes me sweat just thinking about it like i’m begging matthew mercer PLEASE let him be completely free of involvement with all that, it's just be too much for me to find out otherwise
> 
> but yeeeeah those little Essek scenes, those were rough to write, like I was working in the dark there and I figured hmmmmm how to make this angsty AND Shadowgast at the same time, gotta find that balance
> 
> I really hope you guys liked it, thank you so much for reading!! Just two more finals to go and I'll be back as soon as I can with the next part of this fic!!
> 
> The scenes that inspired this fic are:  
> The Folding Halls | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 80 - 1:39:45, 2:53:20  
> From Door to Door | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 81 - 3:20:20  
> The Beat of the Permaheart | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 82 - 3:42:30  
> Dark Bargains | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 83 - 3:19:16, 3:58:50  
> Titles and Tattoos | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 84 - 48:30, 1:33:35, 3:56:15  
> The Threads Converge | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 85 - 3:37:45 - 3:47:12, 4:27:33  
> The Cathedral | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 86 - 19:15 - 24:55, 56:00, 2:16:10, 2:35:00, 4:00:00, 4:48:42, 4:57:00  
> Punishment and Politics | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 87 - 15:30, 26:00, 39:00, 1:26:58


End file.
